


Receptacle

by Plastron



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Adultery, Altered Mental States, Animal Instincts, Character Study, Cunnilingus, Darkfic, Drugging, Eggs, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fat Shaming, Flashbacks, Food Issues, Gaslighting, Guilt, IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS SORT OF DARK FIC DON'T READ IT., Impregnation, Intersex, Intersex Donatello, Jealousy, Leonardo Probably Has a Personality Disorder, Lust, M/M, Manipulation, Mating, Memories, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Mpreg, Multi, Obsession, Other, Pain, Painful Sex, Perversion, Physical Abuse, Potential Trigger: Shaming Regarding Food, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Self-Harm (implied), Sociopathic Behavior, Unrequited Lust, Vaginal Sex, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, brief mentions of self-harm, discussion of weight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27900349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plastron/pseuds/Plastron
Summary: (This is a dark AU which takes place within the timeline ofNesting, but I'm not posting it as part of the fic officially. It's up to the readers to decide if they want to accept it as part of "Nesting" or not.)A miasma of pheromones, saccharine-sweet nesting talk, shifting familial dynamics, and a lifetime of internalized perfectionism slowly drives Leo to the edge. And then, there, resting on the bed, plastron swollen with eggs and cheeks flushed like ripe berries, Leo sees what he wants and finally decides to claim it for his own.Translation: Leo can’t stop lusting after heavily gravid Don and secretly resents Don’s romance with Raph. One night when Raph is away, Leo snaps.
Relationships: Donatello/Leonardo (TMNT), Donatello/Raphael (TMNT), Leonardo/Donatello (TMNT), Leonardo/Michelangelo (TMNT), Raphael/Donatello (TMNT)
Comments: 46
Kudos: 73





	1. Talisman

**Author's Note:**

> Warning to Leo fans: This is my twisted study/interpretation of his character from 2k3, heavily emphasizing his issues with perfectionism and pride. I don't dislike Leo, but my take on him might not be your cup of tea, as fair warning. ;) And as always with darkfics, PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. If you don't like where Chapter 1 is heading, please don't read Chapter 2 because I can promise you it will only escalate. XD;;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Donatello was his talisman. His totem. His charm. If Leo was being completely honest with himself, Donatello was his prized bauble as well. And in Leo’s darkened room on guilt-addled nights, Donatello became an obsession._

Don and Raph had finished breakfast together, placing their dishes in the sink and conversing with hushed affectionate tones as Don washed and Raph dried. 

Leo sat there like a statue at the table, quietly sipping his tea and reviewing his modified training plan. He pretended not to pay any attention as Raph reached over and gave Don’s ample backside a quick squeeze; bit the inside of his lip as Don gasped and giggled. 

He began to draw small circles in the margins of his notebook, eyes staring unseeing at the page with his schedule and notes. When he realized they were beginning to look more and more like eggs or Don’s rounded swollen middle, he stopped, nearly snapping the lead from the tip of his pencil.

There were several traits Leonardo believed applied to him over the years: traditional, stalwart, measured, disciplined. It had taken him some time to grow into his role as the head of their clan, as their leader…but in that time, with the love from his brothers and his late father, Leo had also come to accept he was allowed to be fallible. 

Therefore, lurking in the back of his mind, Leo grudgingly recognized that he had some dark facets to him as well: Prideful, rigid, entitled…possessive.

False humility was his biggest downfall, because it kept Leo from admitting to himself that he coveted things that were never meant to be his alone.

“Just because you think you have to be perfect, Leo, doesn’t mean you aren’t already, just the way you are,” Don had comforted him in the wake of his shame over being swayed by Saki. The olive turtle would never know how much such a simple gesture on his part plied Leo.

The memories of Don’s lilting, soft voice soothed him during his darkest moments. He’d replayed the sensation of Don’s warm hand patting his shoulder and lingering just a moment longer with a gentle squeeze times innumerable to keep himself from practicing figurative and (only sometimes) literal self-flagellation.

Donatello was his talisman. His totem. His charm. If Leo was being completely honest with himself, Donatello was his prized bauble as well. And in Leo’s darkened room on guilt-addled nights, Donatello became an obsession.

And it was that exact obsession that had Leo gripping his teacup just slightly too hard, and waiting vigilantly for the two to depart from the kitchen. He murmured his goodbyes to them, voice as cool and collected and just as slightly good-natured as they’d come to expect. 

That’s what a leader was supposed to be. 

Except… 

Leo’s nostrils flared the second he heard their voices fade. He let his mouth fall open, hissing gently as he searched the air for scent. His senses possessed him, and before he knew it, he was leaning over the chair upon which Don had sat on just a few minutes before. 

It was cool to the touch, but if he imagined hard enough, his leaf-green fingertips could siphon the slightest trace of warmth left on the worn wood. 

He pursed his lips as he regarded the spot there, in the center of the seat—a slight damp spot where the soft sex between Don’s legs had rested upon the wood. Cheeks heating, he tilted his head so the light could catch the surface of the chair, and he honed in on the traces of nectar left from Don’s slit. 

Self-consciously, he looked around to ensure he was entirely alone. It was the least Ninja-like Leo had ever been, but he forgot to chastise himself for those jerky head movements as soon as his mouth clamped down upon the spot. He sucked and licked at the traces of Don left on the chair, throat clicking in a strangled churr as he let the salty tang mingle with his saliva. 

He wanted to stay there, but the ache in his lower plastron told him he didn’t have much time. He picked up his notebook and held it casually in front of him as he made his way to his room, past Mikey playing video games on the couch. If he walked with purpose, no one would question him before he could lock the door behind him. 

If only they knew how measured and calculated and meticulous and…FAKE…The Great Leonardo was on the inside. 

He carelessly tossed his notebook on the small table in his room before letting out a small grunt of frustration as he circled back a few steps to adjust it so it was sitting more respectably in the center. 

Shame and lust fought for dominance as he sank down onto his bed and traced his fingers over his bulging lower plastron. He pushed the fears that all of his Hamato ancestors were watching him deep down to the back of his mind as he let his full erection bloom from the softened cartilage. 

He pretended he was no longer Leonardo. He was no one. 

And nobody stroked his long, aching cock frantically to release, squeezing and shaking his thumb against the side of the cockhead as he came in hot, thick ropes. The milky fluid ran over someone’s fingers before cooling in the damp air; he wasn’t sure whose. 

Finally, Leonardo emerged from his room, the wet cloth discarded beneath some linen in his hamper. But Leonardo smelled of cedar wood incense.

Raph approached him in the afternoon about going topside. The conversation was short and clipped. Leo hesitated before asking Raph how long he planned to be out. With a rumbling laugh, Raph quipped that he was in his 30’s and didn’t think he still had a curfew, and Leo let it go with a tight smile and a forced chuckle.

“I’m only asking because you know how Don feels about not being able to go topside these days,” Leo replied, trying very hard not to think about the last time they’d all gone topside together; he’d been beneath Don on the manhole ladder, and he’d gotten an eyeful as Raph tugged the 3-months-pregnant turtle through the hole with very little room to spare.*

If he were anyone else, Leo would’ve smacked himself across the face to stop thinking about the sight of Don's legs and ass wriggling just above him, the glistening folds and peach-tinted taint on full display... His mouth watered just thinking about it.

“Yeah, I know,” Raph rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, it ain’t just fer kicks, alright? Don’t say nothin’ but it’s a baby shower gift I’m plannin’ fer Donnie. April an’ Casey are helpin’ me with it, so if I’m out late it’s because we’re still gettin’ it all straightened out.”

“Aw, is Daddy-Raph getting those nesting instincts?” Leo teased. Inside his heart twisted with guilt. If only Raph knew of the venom laced into his words.

Raph’s cheeks colored and he punched Leo in the shoulder with a lopsided grin. 

“Shaddup, Fearless. Donnie’s takin’ a nap, so keep Mikey quiet, yeah? See ya later.” 

“See ya. Be careful.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

With that, Raph took off.

Leo stood there for some time, listening to Raph’s swift footsteps fade away.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Leo decided he should force himself to do 50 backflips in the dojo.

He hoped it would be enough to take his mind off of plump, olive skin and wet, pink folds.

To be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * [Here's a silly sketch on my Inkbunny of the scenario. I'm sorry.](https://inkbunny.net/s/2239721)


	2. Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo trains in the dojo because it’s the only thing he knows will calm him down. But the memories find him, anyway. And Leo finds his justification.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leo's flashbacks are in _italics_.

How long had it been? Leo was drenched in sweat, breathing hard, his head swimming. He could feel his blood pulsing in his temples. 50 backflips had turned into several other drills, intended to punish as well as distract.

Pushups.

“Focus, Leo, you can do this,” He breathed, not bothering to count as he pumped himself up and down. He kept his eyes closed.

A flash of silver, red and gold entered his mind’s eye. Dark emerald. The smell of sweat.

And despite his attempts to concentrate on the present, Leo was flung back years into the past.

….......................................................................

_“Whatcha hidin’ under there, dude? Boulders?” Mikey joked, flicking Raph on the shoulder as the older turtle dipped back down for another set of punishing low-dip dumbbell pushups. Raph just grunted in irritation at Mikey before pumping himself back up, deltoids and biceps bulging._

_Nearby, Leo lunged and thrust his wooden practice sword, cutting the air with a whistling sound. He shook his head with the barest hint of movement in disapproval, resetting himself into a MORE CORRECT stance to repeat the move. He had lost concentration just before the last drill, and it was because of Raph and Mikey._

_Though he pretended not to watch Raph, Leo watched him out of the corner of his eye. It didn’t escape Leo’s attention that Raph was using his sai for dumbbells, creating an even more challenging variation of the move. And it didn’t escape Leo’s attention that the overhead lights in the lair caught Raph’s impressive bulk and definition brilliantly with every rep._

_And, Leo remembered, that shortly after, Raph had caught his katana with his sai in a practice spar, and had overpowered him with frightening ease. He remembered the feeling of panic as his heels dug fruitlessly into the tatami mat, skidding backwards as Raph bore down on him; how his own extremely strong arms had given out against Raph’s core and upper body strength…How his father had praised Raph for using a combination of quick reflexes and physical stamina to disarm and overpower his opponent._

_Leo’s admiration of Raph’s strength, always lingering unspoken beneath the surface, twisted into something acerbic._

_He remembered with a hot rush of shame how he’d spent longer than usual doing pushups after that practice session on his own, in private, and attempted the same pushups that he’d seen Raph doing, only to buckle after a respectable-but-nowhere-near-as-good-as-Raph 35 reps._

_Leo was not used to being unsure of how to proceed. More importantly, Leo was not used to feeling he’d fallen short in an area that earned Raph praise._

_His shoulders became too sore to swing his swords quickly enough for Splinter’s liking over the next few practices, so Leo quit his private extra training to save face._

_Deep down, he knew Raph earned that strength by training his muscles in addition to his required combat drills with their father and brothers, just the same way that Don had honed his expertise on machinery and tech and intellect with countless hours of research and experiments… but it was so much easier to tell himself that Raph was just naturally strong. It was easier on Leo’s pride to mentally revoke Raph’s gold medal, hard earned by work._

_But from that day on, Leo began to taunt Raph with variations of how Raph was “too slow.” It wasn’t a coincidence that Leo was faster on his feet than Raph already. He didn’t recognize what his new taunting behavior meant, didn’t WANT to recognize what it meant, but Leo ensured that he only challenged Raph to foot races instead of competitions of strength._

_He was comfortable winning that way. He was comfortable making cracks about Raph’s temper and recklessness. He was inwardly elated when he got a rise out of Raph, especially in front of Don, because it only further justified that nameless twist and squeeze within his chest when Leo thought Raph might beat him in any contest._

_Don generally got along with each of his brothers equally, but Leo felt his mouth curl up into a grin when he managed to get Don to laugh at Raph’s expense._

_When Don cheerfully gifted Raph with a custom protein powder and topical muscle therapy cream for Christmas, Leo felt he’d lost again to Raph. Never mind the equally thoughtful gift Don had given him of specially-mixed oil for polishing his katana blades, or the inter-dimensional communication device set to Usagi’s frequency._

_Later that night, Leo walked around the corner and found Raph kissing Don beneath the mistletoe._

_Leo stammered that they should know better than to sloppily display affection in public, how uncouth it was for their dinner guests to potentially see them in such a state. He turned and stormed off when Don (hands still splayed over Raph’s strong shoulders) pointed out to him that the dinner guests had all left 2 hours ago._

_The blush on Don’s cheeks, as he peeked at him shyly over Raph’s shoulder, told Leo the score._

_No amount of extra training could ever bestow upon Leo that particular prize._

….......................................................................

It was pathetic how easily and, he hated to admit, frequently, his mind accessed these memories.

Losing his concentration and balance, Leo dropped awkwardly to the floor, letting the grassy scent of the tatami bring him back to the present. He’d lost count of his repetitions, anyway.

For a brief moment, Leo didn’t care if anyone was around.

Head swimming, he bounded to his feet, pacing around the dojo. He punched the wall in frustration, reveling in the pain that shot up his knuckles, wrist, and up into his shoulder. The throbbing and stinging kept him at least momentarily distracted from the heat he felt in his lower abdomen.

Leo hated how much he hesitated around Don ever since Raph had gotten to him.

Leo’s smart, kind, reliable Donatello…  
Leo’s key strategist and confidante besides Father…  
Leo’s only choice for second-in-command…

…and Raphael’s mate.

If it weren’t for the very impulsiveness that Leo hated most about Raph, Leo might have had a chance to approach Don before.

Leonardo was the patient one. He never jumped into things too soon. How unfair that his hotheaded brother would be the one instead of him.

Leonardo squeezed his eyes shut again, white-hot rage flashing behind his eyelids.

Don probably just humored Raph. He was probably too afraid to say ‘No’ to such an impetuous bully.

But.

Don had built Raph his own motorcycle.

They’d already been the least likely to argue with one another.

For years, they’d been naturally falling into place.

If Donatello really cared as much as he pretended to about Leo’s values, he would have understood how desperately Leo wished that he could have direct heirs of his own. He would have understood that all of those years of strategizing and fighting were so much more to Leo.

Surely, Donnie didn’t think Leo took the Hamato clan tradition and legacy lightly?

Leo shook his head, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

It was no use.  
His mind kept going back to Don.  
Raph.  
And eggs.

…….............................................................................

_If Leo’s heart broke the night he discovered Raph and Don were together, then it was ground into a fine dust when Don explained to he and Mikey that he could carry eggs._

_Don was the only of the four turtles whose sex organs were both male and female._

_Leo had smiled and reassured Don that it didn’t change anything. That they’d always see him as their brother if that’s how he saw himself. He slapped Mikey in the shoulder for making a joke about chickens and egg puns, joining in with Don and Raph in their usual “simmer down, Mikey” banter._

_But he never forgot how hard it was to hold that smile on his face, cheek muscles aching, as Raph whispered something against Don’s cheek and the two retreated soon after. He’d immediately watched Raph for a reaction when Don revealed his secret, and it was obvious to Leo that Raph had known for some time.  
Since when do strategists leave their superiors in the dark about anything?_

_That night, Leo’d said nothing when Mikey entered his room. He turned down Mikey’s offer of anal sex, rubbing and licking at his youngest brother’s entrance dutifully instead of mounting him. He pushed the younger turtle off when he tried to ride his erection, instead squeezing and pumping Mikey with his hand._

_In the dark, he grunted softly as Mikey’s hot mouth sucked him to completion, fingers pressing into Mikey’s temples. Leo barely heard Mikey’s pleading churrs as he choked on his dick. He lessened his grip on Mikey’s skull, just enough for Mikey to properly swallow his seed. That Leo’s fingers were still curled around Mikey’s scalp when he’d finished was a silent command to finish licking his erection clean until he softened completely._

_He’d never treated Mikey with a truly loving touch during their coupling._

_Sure, he had been gentle when Mikey needed it, rough when Mikey requested it, and he’d offered his warmth and an arm around the younger’s shoulders beneath the covers for post-coital sleep, trying to pretend that Mikey wasn’t smiling blissfully against his cheek._

_But Leo knew it was never cuddling. It was never romance or passion._

_Leo didn’t dare fantasize while having sex with Mikey; the risk of calling Mikey “Don” by accident was too great. If Mikey ever sensed that Leo was holding back, he never mentioned it._

_Mikey took what Leo offered him._

_For Leo, it was never enough, and on that particular night, he couldn’t stop thinking that it would never BE enough._

_After he was sure that Mikey was asleep, snoring softly against his shoulder, Leo carefully extracted himself from Mikey’s grip and the bed._

_He crept down the hall to Don’s lab, and read some of Don’s notes on turtle reproduction. Much of it, Leo hated to admit, he did not fully understand; there was too much technical jargon within. However, certain notes jumped out at him._

_“In wood turtles (Clemmys insculpta), male dominance hierarchies also exist, and male rank has been shown to affect reproductive success. Males who consistently win fights against other (usually smaller) males enjoy a higher dominance rank and greater access to extended copulations with females…”*_

_Male dominance hierarchies.  
Greater access to extended copulations with…_

_He gripped the edge of the desk._

_Raph always lost the foot races. Raph wasn’t as fast as him._

_But his heart had leapt into his throat as he gleaned some meaning from one of the quickly-scrawled notes in the margins:_

_“An important aspect of turtle reproductive biology is the ability of females to store viable sperm in their oviducts for long periods of time…”_

_And then, smaller, more casually scrawled:  
“X-Rays show similar anatomy to turtle oviducts, branching behind the cervix and vagina which is humanoid…not sure if this means I’ll have awkward questions for April soon.”_

_“Deeper fallopian tube structures winding as deep and far back as lower intestines… remnants from partial internal cloaca formation?”_

_And smaller still, as though an afterthought: “Somewhat rhetorical ??- How close to having cloaca were we? Routine physicals show humanoid penile anatomy in all four of us, but testicles= internal. Not about to ask Casey or April how far back THEIR anuses sit on their pelvic region…”_

__

_Leo was about to close the notebook when his eyes skimmed over something…intriguing._

_“Studies discussed in the previous section have demonstrated that sperm from multiple males are often present in a female's reproductive tract simultaneously, and that these stored sperm can result in multiple sires within a clutch.”_

_Multiple males… multiple sires within a clutch._

_“Shell…” Leo breathed, staggering as he frantically put the notebook and materials back where he found them, setting Don’s desk back the way he found it._

_That was the moment, wasn’t it?_

_That was the moment Leo’s thoughts about Don turned again and again toward eggs and a new brood of turtles._

_Settling back into bed as quietly as he’d left, he stared at the ceiling while Mikey snored next to him, listless and unhappy._

_Why should Raph have that privilege all to himself? Why did RAPH have to be the one who’d sire Don’s eggs?  
_

….......................................................................

Leo tasted the copper on his lip. Where was…? Oh. Right. He was back in the dojo.

And Don was 126 feet down the hall and to the left, his body swollen with Raphael’s eggs.

Leo licked his lips.

…if only they weren’t mutated with such human emotions. If only they’d been more like feral turtles, Leo would have had several clutches from which to choose a proper Hamato heir, by then.

Then Don would have allowed all of them a chance to pass on their genes.

Couldn’t Don see? He was selfish to only have Raph as his mate.

Who wants a clutch of eggs—of heirs-- that could inherit such undesirable traits, anyway?

The Hamato clan needed the best of their heritage to continue on.

They needed strategists who were brilliant like Donatello, and they needed righteous leaders more like Leo. It was the perfect blend of traits. It would yield the perfect young pupils. It would yield the best possible future.

He needed to calm down. He needed to meditate.

If their father were still alive, what would he say?

He’d probably tell Leo to face his problems and stop running from them. He’d probably tell Leo that he should accept the fear that kept him dishonest and shy around Don.

He’d probably tell Leo to talk to Don.

But…Splinter would’ve told Leo to talk to Don privately, as it was a private matter; to discuss the matter with prudence, so as not to hurt Mikey’s feelings.

Before he knew it, Leo was leaving the tatami mat, and he was walking out of the dojo.

Leo found himself in his father’s old room, rummaging through a small compartment in a dusty chest, which only he and Don knew about. They were the only two who Father had trusted with potentially lethal substances, after all. Disarming blinding dust and poisons, from ancient recipes handed down through the Hamato clan. He found the envelope, his father’s recognizable handwriting in hiragana on the small packet.**

The knowledge that Don was the only other who knew only convinced Leo of his plan’s justness.

He concealed the small washi envelope in his palm as he left the room.

He barely felt the damp brick beneath his feet as he walked into the kitchen, past Michelangelo who was still playing video games.

For a brief moment, he wavered, wondering if he could be happy just having sex with Mikey, and forget about all of his thoughts on Don. He…hadn’t any complaints, after all, about his eager bed partner.

But the ache between his legs and the tightness in his chest told him what he really wanted to hear:

How could Leonardo ever be happy with a consolation prize?

Father had not trained him so that he would be second best to anyone or anything.

He was certain. He would use only a little of the powder in Mikey’s soda; Mikey would feel drowsy and very thirsty upon waking, but the dose would ensure that Mikey would not interrupt Leo’s…discussion…with Donatello.

Besides… He could always keep the rest in case things didn’t go according to plan, and he would need much more to subdue Raphael.

Leo’s blood thrummed in his head so forcefully that he was certain he’d blacked out for a second.

He double-checked the amount he’d tapped out onto a paper napkin, and peered into the envelope to be sure he hadn’t already added any more powder to the soda without thinking of it.

Leo tapped a little of the powder back into the envelope, to be safe. Then he stirred the small dose carefully into Mikey’s drink. His hands were shaking, but that would go away once he’d relieved the heat and pressure in his lower plastron.

“Hey, Leo. Wanna play the next round with me? I’m on a roll today!” Mikey greeted him as he sat down with the soda in hand.

Leo laughed, feeling lightheaded and giddy. “No thanks, I’d rather not get my shell kicked by the champ.” He replied with a grin.

“Aw, c’mon, I’ll go easy on ya! See, I’ll play with my toes instead! That’s one less digit you’ll have to contend with!” Mikey demonstrated by maneuvering the controller with his feet.

“Impressive offer, but I think I’ll pass.”

As expected, Mikey pouted playfully, pausing the game. “Aw, you’re no fun, ol’ man Leo.”

Leo smirked, letting the ice clink in the glass.

“Hey! And since when do YOU drink soda?”

“I don’t,” Leo did his best to say affectionately. “I just thought you might be thirsty.”

Mikey grabbed the soda, batting his eyes at Leo over the rim.

“Awwww, ya shouldn’t have,” he cooed.

Leo smiled at him as he chugged down the glass.

Within a few seconds, Mikey’s eyelids drooped and he slumped forward. Leo was careful to catch him, laying him gently on his side and placing the controller in his hand. He un-paused the game so that Mikey would think he’d just fallen asleep while playing. He’d wake up to a game over screen in a few hours, tops.

Leo took the glass into the kitchen and washed it thoroughly, drying it and placing it back on the shelf. He made sure the envelope was safely secured in his inner belt pouch before he padded silently down the hall towards Don and Raph’s room.

“My Son, you are like a swan. On the outside you are calm and still, but beneath the surface you are struggling to keep yourself afloat. Give up your control to gain control.” Father’s voice beckoned to him from years ago.

Leo twisted them to tell him exactly what he wanted to hear.

He peered into the room, and heard the sound of Don’s soft snoring, could make out the plump form on the bed in the dim glow of a heat lamp.

Rubbing his fingers over his lower plastron, he shivered with pleasure as the blood rushed to his cock, bulging against the softened cartilage.

Leo waited another moment, listening for any sound or trace of Mikey stirring. The low, repetitive hum of the game over music from the living room was all he could hear.

He clutched his hand to his chest, holding justifications within his hammering heart like a charm upon its woven cord.

Then, Leo entered the room.

To be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * From the article: [Turtle Mating Systems: Behavior, Sperm Storage, and Genetic Paternity](https://academic.oup.com/jhered/article/92/2/206/2187276)
> 
> ** Updated: Okay, this was gonna be a powder called "machin" which ninja used, derived from strychnine tree seeds, which is fed to guard dogs to intoxicate them, but a commenter pointed out that according to True Crime Podcasts they listen to, Strychnine is more potent a poison than what little research I did lead me to believe. (I thought maybe it could be blended with something else or diluted, but I am not knowledgeable enough on the exact blend ninjas would've used to be sure). So I just changed it to a sleeping powder or some vague thing that could potentially be lethal if used in huge amounts, but isn't interpreted as a one-way ticket to death potentially by readers; I don't want any confusion there-- Leo's unhinged but he's not intending to kill Mikey. XD LOL, carry on.


	3. Bauble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo's restraint is worn down...he has to taste Don.
> 
> WARNING: RAPE, MANIPULATION, Potentially triggering mentions of food restriction, weight shaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's 9pm here. Happy New Year's Eve! Er, this is a strange thing to post, but I did want to get chapter 3 done before 2021 (hehe, and before I started on my snacks and booze), so...

Bauble

The first thing Leo noticed upon entering the dimly lit room was the musk in the air. It smelled vaguely sweet, like Don’s usual scent, but it was heightened with hints of that salty tang Leo’d tasted earlier-- Like a rose washed into salty ocean water. His beak wrinkled as he silently approached the bed, though; another scent mingled with Don’s as he got closer—a copper, dark wood smell with bitter hints of spice and unsweetened cocoa: Raphael.

Leo stood there over the bed, slightly concealed in the cool shadows just outside the orange glow of Don’s heat lamp. Don stirred in his sleep, sighing softly and shifting his head on his own pillow, idly caressing the pillow next to him. That earthy bitter scent flooded Leo’s nostrils again, and he wished for a brief moment that he could seize the pillow from Don’s hands and slice it into little pieces. 

But Leo was spellbound by the way the light caught Don’s rounded abdomen, mound-like and nearly a perfect sphere. His flesh billowed out from behind his plastron on the sides, and if it weren’t Don he was gazing at, Leo might have felt mild disgust looking at that extra bulk.

They’d all been made aware of the importance of keeping fit from their earliest childhood training sessions, not just for successful missions, but for survival as well. While their father had been loving and taught them everything he knew, Leo could also recall sharp criticism if one of them lagged in any areas of their training. There were enough admonishments about eating more calories than one needed over the years, usually leveled at Mikey. And Leo took notice of how self-conscious Don was as he fell further and further out of practice in favor of his intellectual pursuits. 

Leo faltered in that area only once, and was so sensitive to the criticism he received that he vowed never to slip again. He was 10 years old and took a third cookie from the pack they shared after dinner. Their father grunted disapprovingly, the furrowed brows and frowning mouth branded upon Leo’s memory. 

“Leonardo,” Splinter chided. “A master swordsman is quick on his feet. You are still growing, but any strength you gain must be lean and quick like a coiled spring. If a swordsman becomes heavy and ponderous, it will mean his death.” 

Splinter had slapped Mikey’s hand as he reached for a fourth cookie, but young Leo hadn’t noticed. The chocolate and sugar lingering on his tongue from his second cookie turned to ash in his mouth, and he lowered his eyes as he dropped the treat back into the package. 

“Yes, Sensei…” He managed, his eyes burning. 

Later that evening, Splinter had invited Leo to sit with him so he could read a passage from “The Book of the Five Rings.” Splinter held the young turtle on his lap as he read with a gentle voice to show Leo that all was well. But Leo never forgot the shame forced onto him for enjoying a simple pleasure. Father had been right. And Leo had been careful to enforce the same standards upon the team when he took over…but he could never bring himself to chide Don too harshly; it was one of his few failings, he felt, as a leader. He always wanted to keep Don’s favor.

That Leo’s feelings about the issue became more complicated after Don’s body changed was an understatement; Once pregnant, as Don grew softer and rounder with his…condition, Leo was fascinated. He’d spent so much of his life being concerned with staying trim and lithe, and encouraging his team to do the same. 

But every time he overheard Don complaining about his stomach growing larger, softer, and every time he noticed more soft flesh poking out from beneath Don’s shell, Leo instantly felt the blood rush to his member. His fevered dreams were filled with flashes of soft rounded olive flesh, of squeezing the excess fat between his fingers.

Whether it was animal instincts or something else, it stopped mattering to Leo after he’d accepted that his blood rushed to his loins whenever he thought about Don, and especially as Don grew softer and rounder.

And so there he stood, eyes drinking in every inch of Don’s swollen body upon the bed. Leo lost track of how long he stood there, concealed in the shadows, before Don shifted again on the bed, the old mattress creaking beneath his weight as he turned from his side to his back. He was propped up with some pillows, but only enough to keep his chest slightly elevated. As Leo watched, the sleeping turtle kicked the sheets so that they only covered his knees and below. And then Don spread his legs wide, knees bent slightly. 

Don’s scent grew stronger as Leo spied the slit between his legs, just under the bottom of his plastron’s tan cartilage. It was swollen and puffy. Leo had admittedly snuck a glance or two when he had the opportunity—during the last few training sessions Don could participate in, and that instance where they’d all gone topside before Don’s body grew too round to fit through the manhole openings. But this was different, seeing it and smelling it and not having to look away quickly or pretend he was looking at something else…

When Don reached down, idly in his sleep, to scratch at the crook of one of his thighs where it met the soft flesh of his hip, Leo couldn’t take it anymore.

Someone who wasn’t Leo may have enjoyed multiple orgasms guiltily thinking about Don, dreaming about how it would feel to be this close… but in that exact moment, it was Leo and no one else who was privy to the sight of Don’s wet slit, his plush, spread thighs, and-- Leo inhaled as deeply as he dared without making a sound-- The intoxicating scent of a turtle meant to be bred.

He’d come so close to tasting it, to feeling it. His mouth watered at the memory of the damp kitchen chair. 

Leo licked his lips, and before he realized what he was doing, he was kneeling silently between Don’s thighs, carefully distributing his weight upon his spread knees on the firmer end corners of the bed so he wouldn’t jostle the mattress.

During those early morning sessions before Don had to stop training, Leo had noticed how Don’s upper legs began to swell both outward and inward, the bulbous pockets of flesh rubbing against one another when he walked. Leo wondered how the soft, dimpled fat might feel beneath his palms. He ran his hands lightly up and down the insides of Don’s thighs, and as the warm pliable flesh molded around his fingertips, Leo finally didn’t have to wonder anymore.

Don groaned in his sleep at the soft touch, and Leo’s dick emerged from his plastron, fully engorged and leaking on the bed. 

Those tendrils of jealousy and resentment that had wound their way through Leo’s veins twisted and yanked at his core until Leo’s chest felt ready to burst, his heartbeat in his temples and throat. 

His restraint broke, and he pried Don’s doughy thighs further apart before crushing his mouth to Don’s creamy center. The soft lips of Don’s sex painted Leo’s beak with slick nectar, overwhelming his olfactory senses with the sweet tang. Desperate for more, Leo stuck his tongue out and ran it over the soft folds. 

Don gasped, and squeezed Leo’s face between his thighs. Leo doubled down on the force with which he squeezed and grasped at the soft olive pillows, and pried them apart again. Don whimpered before keeping his legs apart, though they trembled as Leo’s tongue lapped up and down around the outside of Don’s slit.

“Oh-!” Don cried out. “O-ohhh, I…I thought you weren’t going to be back…Hnnnghh-!” He was breathless, gripping the sheets in his fists as the warm, wet tongue and beak pressed his sex apart. 

Leo, in his haze, registered what Don was saying, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt shame upon hearing Don’s voice. But… if Don thought he was Raph who had returned earlier, it might make things a little bit easier for him.

Leo kept his head down, made sure to stifle his own vibrating churrs as he rubbed his beak up and down between Don’s legs. 

He growled as he licked a hot stripe up the inside of one of Don’s thighs, finishing with a sharp nip to the dimpled bulk. 

“Augh!! A-ah, you’re pretty eager, huh?” Don gasped, instinctively moving his thigh away from Leo’s mouth. 

Leo said nothing, and realized he would need to act quickly if he was going to get a good and proper taste… 

Don struggled to sit up to look between his legs, and found his belly was too heavy and large to see over, anyway. He flopped back onto the pillows, laughing breathlessly as he felt hot breath upon his sex, and a tentative fingertip across his opening. “Agh… Heh, I guess this means you don’t think it tastes ‘off’ anymo—AGGGH!!” Don yelped as he was spread open wide around a roving and hungry tongue.

Leo shoved Don’s soft thighs apart and crammed his tongue inside, wriggling and twisting the organ to lap at the wet heat before him. Don cried out in surprise and discomfort at his bulky thighs being forced wide, moaned in pleasure as the flat of Leo’s searching tongue rubbed against his sensitive nub. 

Leo growled low and feral in his throat as he pushed his tongue in as far as he could reach. Don tensed up, churring high and breathy as his labia and clit swelled from the stimulation. 

“O-oh…!” Don cried. 

Leo’s tongue was bathed in more slick, tangy warmth which only encouraged him more. He pressed his lips to the dark pink orifice and sucked, pulling at one of the outer petals of blushing flesh. 

“Yeah, ungh! T-that answers my question…Hnnaghhhhgod, Raph-! So good-!” Don moaned in ecstasy. Don’s hands came dangerously close to touching the crown of Leo’s head, but he couldn’t quite reach over or around his swollen belly.

The leader had to admit that hearing Don call him Raph lit a fire within him. Leo never wanted to exist in a world where being called “Raph” was something he’d deem a compliment. His heart ached for a moment, and then he fell back on his ever-sharpened strategizing skill. Don had provided him with some important information: apparently, Raph hadn’t been as interested in tasting Don down there as of late. And from the moans and cries Don uttered, and the enormous amounts of juices flowing from the orifice, Leo could surmise that perhaps he’d been doing even better than Raph at that task. 

He was now in an imaginary competition with Raph, and the prize was Donatello, swollen with eggs and trembling from overwhelming pleasure, completely undone. Leo pulled back a little bit, careful not to raise his head high enough for Don to see him over his mound of a stomach. The dim light in the room caught the sheen of the juices soaking Don’s inner thighs, and his twitching pink slit seemed to glisten and sparkle with every desperate gyration of Don’s hips. The nub nestled at the top of Don’s labia was dark purple, engorged with heat and blood, brilliantly contrasting with the paler olive skin around it. 

Donatello, and all of his parts…that deep maroon pearl shining in the light… those were the baubles Leo sought. 

Leo thought only of that as he dove back in to drink every bit of Don’s essence, tongue flicking and thrusting and teasing relentlessly, driven on by every moan and twitch. Every so often, he’d let his tongue dart up over Don’s clit, but he’d never linger for long before pointing the wet appendage back to dip into the hot slit below.

Then, Leo placed a hungry, sloppy kiss against Don’s clit before pushing his tongue out to flick at the small pearl, all while keeping his lips flush to Don’s body.

“Oh-ohhh-! Where’d you learn THAT-?!” Don yelped, swollen ankles and toes curling by Leo’s shoulders. His plastron nearly bumped Leo in the forehead, Don tensed up so quickly. 

A trick even Raph hadn’t used before. 

Bingo. 

Leo’s mouth curled up into a satisfied grin. He let himself churr louder, low in his throat but not as gutteral as Raph’s, he was sure. But his pleasure was finally let free…He pressed his thumbs into the soft flesh on either side of his target to spread the pink flower wide, and then repeated the move over and over again, sucking and flicking his tongue against his prize, never slowing for a moment.

“Oh…agh, oh, n-n-ooo…oh, oh, please… please...!” Don began to chant, more urgently by the second. 

Leo felt Don start to scoot back away from him, and he aggressively followed the round turtle’s movements, moving his hands beneath Don’s thighs so he could pin him into place. Don was slightly clumsy due to his ungainly middle and his aroused state; it wasn’t hard for Leo to pursue him. Just as he grabbed Don’s hips to brace his abdomen in place, he pushed his beak into the gleaming pink bauble and lapped greedily at the tangy juices before sucking one last time and flicking his tongue over Don’s pearl, and-!

Don thrashed his head to and fro on the pillows, eyes wet with tears as he succumbed to the most intense orgasm he’d experienced from oral sex, possibly ever.

“AUUUGHHH-! O-oh my god--!” Don sobbed, brown eyes dark and blown wide as he crested, unable to escape the vice grip on his soft hips or the hot mouth lapping at him.

Leo was rock hard and aching, his satisfaction only sated for the time it took for Don to cum. He finally pulled his mouth away from Don’s vulva, staring intently at the opening as it contracted and spasmed in the afterglow. 

He licked his lips. He’d finally seen it, touched it, smelled it, tasted it. 

Leo reached out and stroked the velvety lips, marveling as they twitched beneath his soft touch, not to comfort Don, but to re-affirm that he’d coaxed that reaction from Don’s body.

“I…that was… that was AMAZING,” Don sighed, shifting on the pillows with a grunt. He grimaced as he sat up, using his elbows to help push him upright. He had to spread his legs apart so his gravid belly could sit between them as his center of gravity shifted. “I think that was the BEST I’ve ever—“

Leo nearly ducked below the bed height in time. 

But not soon enough.

Don’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. 

“—Leo?!” Don’s voice cracked. 

To be Continued…


	4. Receptacle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don had disappointed Leo as a ninja. But, Leo would grant him forgiveness, after all, because Don would be the perfect breeding receptacle. What else did they have to use for that? Don was lucky like that; truly unique. Leo couldn’t quite hold it against him, though he wished he could just as effortlessly claim credit for his own achievements in the same way that Don and Raph did."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Serious Trigger Warning: 
> 
> RAPE. GASLIGHTING. EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION. PAIN.  
> Descriptions of Leo's unsettling inner life. You're gonna hate this Leo, I guarantee it.

“—Leo?” Don’s voice cracked. 

The horror in his voice was evidence enough, but his brown eyes wide with disbelief and shock sent Leo plummeting back to earth from his euphoria. 

Leo shook his head rapidly back and forth. Oh. That’s right, Donatello wouldn’t have been happy to know it was Leo plying him with his tongue instead of Raph. Leo felt a little disbelief at that sort of unhappy conclusion, too. Tasting Don, feeling him spasm and twitch against his mouth… it left Leo’s head buzzing. He had to calm down. He had to think-

“L-Leo…I-it…it can’t be-! What are you DOING here?!” 

Willing himself to stay calm, Leo decided that retreating wouldn’t do. 

Don looked unsettled by the blank, glassy-eyed stare on Leo’s face. 

After a long pause:

“I’m surprised you wanted that from me, Donnie.” 

Leo kept his eyes trained on his prize…

…which grew more distraught by the second.

“No, no, Leo-! What the hell-? I thought you were RAPH!” 

Leo bit the inside of his lower lip, making a smacking noise with his tongue. Don’s flushed face, even in the dimly lit room, seemed to redden even further at that.

“I’m sorry if you made that mistake,” Leo soothed, voice calm and soft. “I know it’s easy to get confused in the heat of the moment.”

He remembered to furrow his eye ridges; that’s right, a little tighter in the middle, pull them upwards. He was concerned for Donnie. 

Leonardo was Very Concerned for Donatello. Very Concerned.

“Donnie…I…I just wish you’d just told me from the beginning. Raph hasn’t been giving you what you want lately,” He knelt by the bedside, at eye level with Don, as he placed his hand softly on Don’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you’ve been so lonely.”

The look on Don’s face might’ve been comical if it were different circumstances; his mouth hung open in shock, eyes bulging.

Leo thought about how angry and hurt he was that Don hadn’t thought to share the scientific findings about eggs with him in the first place. 

He regretted that he hadn’t been sharp enough to realize Don had been keeping secrets from him for a long time.

The regret etched heavy lines in his face. It made it so that Leo no longer had to remind myself to furrow his eye ridges.

“Why did it have to be like this?” He murmured.

Leo stood up to his full height, slowly, unashamed that Don could see his erection.

“For what it’s worth, I have no complaints about your taste. You deserved that pleasure. Think of yourself for once, Don.”

“N-no, I-I didn’t WANT you to--!”

“’Oh, please, oh, please…that was amazing.’ That sounded pretty affirming to me.” Chuckling softly, Leo put his hand on Don’s knee. “I couldn’t deny you that, Donnie, not after all you’ve been through.” 

Leo glanced down at Don’s swollen middle, just slightly too long for it to be casual. 

Don pulled the sheet up to cover his belly, inching back on the bed. 

Don’s head was swimming… had he urged Leo on? He…he HAD, but… 

“Oh…” Leo looked at Don so strangely. He tilted his head slightly. “Oh, Donnie…” He covered his mouth, looking away.

Don couldn’t find his voice. “W-what, Leo?” the sound barely left his throat.

Leo shook his head, face grim as he stared at the floor. 

“Now it all makes sense…Don, I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” 

Don looked fit to burst. His lower lip trembled, and his eyes were welling over with tears. He began to breathe unevenly.

“F-find out…?” 

Leo paced himself. Slowly. Deliberately. 

He had to remind himself he was telling Don the truth. His version of the truth. Of course, it would be hard for him to break the news. But because it was the truth, he had to tell Don. He had to help Don, to be there in his time of need.

“I wondered why Raph kept talking so much about going topside,” Leo began. He kept his voice soft. He paused. Shook his head in disapproval. “And now it makes sense. I’ve failed you. Both of you…I just…I wanted to give Raph the benefit of the doubt.” 

Don’s face softened.

“Leo…please don’t—“ 

“It’s my fault.” 

“No, no, please…y-you didn’t cause any of this,” Don reassured him. 

Whether he meant non-consensually performing a sex act on him or a general sense of tension in Raph and Don’s relationship, it didn’t matter. Leo got the verbal admission he was looking for, regardless of what “this” meant to Don.

Leo had to smile at Don. The first authentic expression he’d allowed himself to make since entering the room. Don really was just. So. Very. Kind. Soft. Passive. Self-Sacrificing. Forgiving. Submissive. Perfect.

Don’s brown eyes shined with tears. “It’s not your fault, please don’t—Don’t say that.” 

“But it is, Donnie. That’s the problem.” Leo argued softly, through gritted teeth. He thought about the anger he held towards Raph. It helped. “When Raph left, I should’ve stopped him. I should’ve talked some sense into him…! I can’t believe I let him go after he said those things—“ 

“—what?” 

Leo replayed the conversation in his head, just to be sure. 

_“ Yeah, I know. Well, it ain’t just fer kicks, alright? Don’t say nothin’ but it’s a baby shower gift I’m plannin’ fer Donnie. April an’ Casey are helpin’ me with it, so if I’m out late it’s because we’re still gettin’ it all straightened out.”_

_“Aw, is Daddy-Raph getting those nesting instincts?”_

_“Shaddup, Fearless. Donnie’s takin’ a nap, so keep Mikey quiet, yeah? See ya later.”_

_“See ya. Be careful.”_

_“Yeah, yeah.”_

“Raph...was in a bad mood about something, and… I really shouldn’t have pried.” 

Don made a quiet, choked chuckling sound in his throat. It was laced with bitterness. 

“That makes two of us, lately.” 

“Oh… So, you know how he’s been, then.” Leo urged, gently.

Don placed his hands over his stomach as he tried to sit up further. Leo held out his hand, and Don blushed as he took it. 

“I’m listening, Donnie,” Leo soothed.

Don took a deep, shuddering breath. “Raph’s… well, you’ve probably noticed his restlessness, lately. Sometimes he’s like his old self, but… other times, I just… I don’t know, it’s as if he’s having a mid life crisis.” 

Leo nodded, murmuring more to himself than Don, “…that’s why he said he had to get away…” He shook his head.

“He…said that?” The pain in Don’s voice was evident. But the pain in his voice outweighed the disbelief in his tone, and Leo knew he had found the key to unlocking this puzzle.

“You know, I’ve had my share of arguments with Raph. I know how he gets,” Leo began, carefully. 

Don hugged his knees as best as he could over his stomach, looking down at the floor. 

“I… asked him how long he’d be out, but he refused to tell me. I tried to stop him, Don,” He continued. “But…all he’d tell me was that he just needed to spend time with April and Casey. I don’t want to repeat what he really said.” 

Leo knew he wasn’t telling a lie. It wasn’t ALL untrue. So…It wasn’t a lie.

Don’s tears spilled over onto his cheeks. 

“I-I can guess,” He sputtered. “I’m sure he’s getting a little tired of the way I’ve been acting lately.” Don sniffled, choking back sobs.

Reaching over, Leo placed his hand on Don’s shoulder, rubbing his soft skin in a gesture mimicking comfort. But Leo also enjoyed feeling how smooth the skin felt. How his skin had been warmed by the heat lamp, the bed sheets, and Don’s still-elevated heart rate.

“Don’t think too badly of him, Donnie. Don’t couples often have issues like that? It’s…I read that loss of desire or attraction doesn’t necessarily mean the end of a relationship.” 

Leo counted himself lucky that he was actually, truly uncomfortable saying that aloud. He had never been comfortable talking about relationships, anyway. And he was sort of guessing; after all, he’d only been given a little clue about what weaknesses might be present in the relationship when Don had moaned something about his taste “being ‘off.’”

But, it didn’t matter. 

Don always was the smartest. 

Leo had faith that he would fill in the blanks. 

The quiet sobs wracking Don’s body confirmed that he had filled in the blanks just as quickly as Leo thought he might.

The sound made his flaccid cock rock hard again. Any shame Leo might have felt was pushed down, deeper than ever, before he could even give it too much thought. He’d spent a lifetime denying those urges to be impulsive. 

He couldn’t wait any more, not when he was this close.

Without saying a word, he gently pulled Don into an embrace, encircling the broken turtle within his steely arms. He inhaled Don’s scent deeply, trembled with pleasure as he felt Don’s hot tears dribble onto his shoulder. To anyone observing the scenario from the outside, it might look and sound more like Leo heaved a sad sigh; sympathy, of course, for Don…and for Don’s failing relationship with Raph. 

And for all of those things that Don didn’t have. For all of those things that Leo could give him.

Don’s sobs against his shoulder began to lose their sensory appeal. Leo could only enjoy sitting there on the bed so close to Don for so long without the novelty of Don’s warm breath, hot tears, and soft, doughy arms clinging to him wearing off. 

Don must’ve cried against him for another 4 or 5 minutes before Leo found himself looking around at the room. 

Raph and Don really had made it a love nest, and a comfortable spot for Don to rest during the remainder of his… Leo wrinkled his beak… of his time carrying those eggs. 

The heat lamp had been built by the two of them from parts they found in the junk yard. Leo’s dark eyes drank in the details of the bed upon which he sat; the sheets were rumpled, and Raph’s pillow still sat next to Don on the other side of the bed. It had taken very little persuasion to coax Raph away from his hammock. 

Leo felt a surge of something dark well up inside him when he saw the worn traces of Raph’s sweat, the barest hint of a dark permanent stain upon the pillow case where his dark emerald skin had rested night after night. 

Leo found it easy to meditate because he could truly exist in a void. He didn’t have a loud inner voice; he never had. 

The downside was that he found himself growing weary once the adrenaline from inhaling Don’s scent started to wear off. He would never admit it, and no one would ever guess, but he and Mikey were more alike than not in that way. Leo, too, needed constant external stimulation to survive. 

The difference was that Mikey would simply feel listless, recognize that unpleasant feeling, and find another activity to occupy his mind if he didn’t find external stimulation.

But Leonardo felt numbness. Hollow. Like he ceased to exist. 

It didn’t matter how bored Mikey could get. He’d never even come close to touching the sort of deep, icy void that was Leo’s inner existence.

As naturally as if it were a habit, Leo cupped Don’s cheeks in his hands, carefully guiding Don’s face away from his shoulder. Don stared up at him through tear-drenched eyes; the scleras were red from crying, and his dark brown irises swam with sorrow. 

He leaned in, rubbing Don’s cheeks with his thumbs, locking Don’s dark brown with his own coal-gray-brown eyes.* A rush of pleasurable chemicals flooded his brain again as the hot tears ran over Leo’s finger pads. Being this close, he could smell the sweetness of ice cream and the tang of garlic (probably dill pickles) lingering on Don’s breath. 

Leo had no opinion, no thoughts as to whether or not it was unpleasant. Don’s breath could have smelt worse than the sewer around them and Leo probably would have relished it. It wasn’t about how Don’s scent smelled to him; it was about his acquisition of Don’s scent. 

“You smell so good,” Leo purred, and he pressed his mouth against Don’s. 

Leo had some things working in his favor: His eagerness to kiss Don had always been there. Don never knew it, but Leo had in fact been kissing Don for years, in his dreams, in his mind…every time he kissed Mikey to placate his younger lover’s neediness. He was measured and careful, but Don could sense the hunger in the intermittent, quick, sharp lashings of his tongue against his.

Don was so stunned and exhausted that he melted into the kiss. The sensation was a break from choking or sobbing, and his mind couldn’t work quickly enough to make him struggle against it.

The kiss lasted as long as it needed to. 

When Leo felt the muscles in Don’s neck and jaw relax against him, he broke the kiss.

Don looked so weary, his undereye bags pronounced in the dim orange light. Don sagged against Leo’s arms, neither trying to pull away nor leaning into the embrace. 

“I’m going to protect you,” Leo whispered, staring into Don’s eyes. “It’s okay.” 

Slowly, he lowered Don onto the bed, pushing the pillows that had previously supported Don’s upper body away just as Don’s head rested upon the mattress. Leo shifted so that he draped himself over Don’s upper body, and in one smooth motion he pushed them off the bed, along with Raph’s pillow. 

Don’s eyes widened as he felt the back of his head rest flush against the bed, his carapace sinking into the mattress. 

“…the pillows,” he grunted, making a small and mostly useless effort to roll to his side so that he could retrieve them.

This had been an issue for Don since the 3rd month or so, and Leo knew it; His center of gravity shifted as his belly grew rounder with the eggs inside him, making it impossible for him to roll onto his side without some assistance.

It was even more difficult on a soft surface like the sagging, uneven, sunken mattress he and Raph called their bed. 

“It’s okay,” Leo repeated, pretending not to notice Don’s discomfort. “It’s okay, Donnie.”

All the while, he pulled the thin blankets up so that they were draped over Don’s chest, leaving Don’s stomach and lower body exposed.

Leo knelt between Don’s legs, peering down at Don from over the rounded mound between them. He placed his hands cautiously on Don’s distorted plastron, rubbing his palms back and forth over the expanse of tan cartilage. “It’s okay,” He mouthed, nodding his head slowly up and down as he looked down at Don, never breaking eye contact. 

“L-leo, what—“ Don gasped. He found it a little difficult to breathe, with the weight of his stomach pulled down against his diaphragm. The soreness in his lower back flared up as he was forced into an arched position. He gritted his teeth against the pain, ceasing his struggles. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Leo murmured, more to Don’s belly than Don. 

“Oh, Leo…” Don sighed. “I…this…should never have happened. We--” 

“Shhh.” Leo hissed. “It’s okay, you don’t need to blame yourself.”

Don struggled, planting his elbows on the mattress. He could barely get his head elevated over his chest before he lost his balance and fell back again. 

“I don’t—it’s just that, Raph, he and I are…”

“Finished, Don. That’s what he said. You’re finished.” Leo raised his voice, just loudly enough to shut Don up. 

“N-no...”

“I think you’re confused,” Leo soothed. 

Unseen by Don, Leo was priming his cock, stroking himself with one hand. The other lightly played over Don’s stomach. 

Leo kissed Don’s stomach, laving his tongue over the roundest portion where his schutes came together. He reached down to rub Don’s cheek, ignoring the fearful expression on Don’s face. 

He pushed his thumb into the corner of Don’s mouth, nerves tingling at the sensation of Don’s puffs of breath against his finger. Don’s cheeks darkened in embarrassment as Leo pushed his thumb inside his mouth, past his teeth.

He thought he heard Don try to speak again. A strangled “Nn—“ died in his throat as Leo pressed his thumb down against Don’s tongue. 

“I know, you’re hurt,” He whispered. “But I promise you…”

Don’s brown eyes widened in shock as something bumped against his entrance. 

“I’m going to keep our family together, no matter what.” 

Don gaped in disbelief as he felt the head of Leo’s dick pop inside him in a single, smooth motion. 

“Agh! What’re you doi--!?” Don cried, the words distorted as Leo pushed his thumb down over Don’s tongue again, gagging him. All he could make was a gurgling noise as his gag reflex kicked in, choking on the heaving motions in his throat.

Leo’s length snaked its way deeper; he was longer than Raph, but not as thick. 

Don let out a strangled moan as he felt the head push against his cervix. He thrashed, trying to roll to the side so he could push Leo off of him.

Leo gritted his teeth, soft vibrating moans clicking in his throat as his cock was swallowed up by slick heat. Don was still wet from earlier. Whether Don wanted to be penetrated by Leo did not matter. Don’s body was prepared and allowed Leo easy entry.

The slick heat surrounding him sent a flood of adrenaline and dopamine through his brain, and a deep, pleasure-drenched churr erupted from his throat.

But it was interrupted by Don’s pained cries. Momentarily disoriented, Leo felt his concentration interrupted when his hips were jostled back and forth by Don’s thick thighs. He blinked, observing Don with a glassy, piercing gaze. 

Don’s thrashing about was weak; he was too weighed down by exhaustion and the heft of his gravid form. 

For a moment, Leo's mind went far away. This was what Father had warned him about when he was young. Becoming...like Don. Leo hated Don for that...and yet he loved him, because he knew it meant Leo hadn't succumbed to weakness. Don's presence, as he was, assured him that he was simply BETTER. Leo was better.

Still, Leo found it a nuisance and a disturbance. Time seemed to pass much slower as he strained against Don’s bucking hips.

He’d waited for such a long time to get what he wanted.

He’d comforted Don, assured him that he wouldn’t hold his poor judgment against him. 

He’d been SO kind to Don, and this was what he received in response?

Leo’s eyes narrowed, gritting his teeth as he fought to stay anchored in place. 

Don’s eyes looked wild, blown wide and his dark pupils constricting by the second as he choked on Leo’s thumb pushing against his teeth and tongue. 

Leo couldn’t stand to see Don looking like that.  
Don’s only flaw was that he didn’t know what was good for him. Leo was disappointed…It was a minor defect upon Don’s otherwise perfect luster, but one that Leo couldn’t ignore. 

How was he supposed to be impregnated if he wouldn’t hold still long enough to accept Leo’s seed?

Don bit down hard on Leo’s thumb, whimpering.

Rage boiled to the surface quicker than Leo could process it, riding through the adrenaline-worn channels that had been so gloriously opened by pleasure just seconds before.

He blinked, and realized Don had stopped his thrashing, only trembling as he silently cried.

In a fog, Leo realized his left hand was no longer placed on Don’s cheek, his thumb was no longer in Don’s mouth, but was on his throat, lightly pressing just hard enough to keep him calm and quiet.

His right hand was warm, and the palm stung and tingled with heat. 

Don must have come to his senses. 

The dark color blooming on Don’s left cheek was evidence of THAT.

He was running short on time. 

Leo dug his fingers into the sides of Don’s neck, disgusted and intrigued by how fat it had gotten. He stopped when he heard Don’s breathing choke down to a desperate wheeze, and lessened the pressure. 

With his right hand, he pinned Don’s arm to the bed, so Don couldn’t do anything stupid--so he couldn’t disappoint Leo any further.

Leo would have plenty of time to discover more imperfections Don possessed, but he likely wouldn’t be able to ejaculate if Don was foolish enough to let them show.

He pulled out slightly, careful not to pull out far enough that Don might buck him off. 

And when he drove back in, it was with the force of over a decade of pent up desire and obsession. 

Don screamed, but it was abruptly cut off; Don’s neck was too fat to fit comfortably in Leo’s hand, after all. Leo could forgive him for that failing, as he’d never particularly valued Don for his self-control, and he knew that the excess fat upon his body would nourish offspring within him and…possibly to come.

Leo focused instead on the slick heat squeezing his cock as he lunged forward again. He could be certain that while Don let him down in other areas, what his body lacked in strength and discipline it made up for in accommodation. He was able to thrust with brutal force and speed, biting his lip with satisfaction as he felt his length slam against a firm wall-like structure deep inside Don’s body, pressing hard and insistent. 

His image training must have been preparing him for this. The hours upon hours forced to sit in silence on the tatami mat, visualizing himself flawlessly infiltrating enemy territory without a single mistake until he thought he might lose track of time and sanity. 

Leo loathed it more than they’d ever know when mistakes were made on missions. 

Father must have wanted him to win at all costs. He must have known Leo was really meant for this.

“Do-n’t…” Don was trying to talk again.

He was so ungrateful.

Leo growled and pulled almost all the way out, his monster length nearly slipping out. He silenced Don with another squeeze against his fat neck, and pushed inside him with a vicious grind of his hips, just to ensure the head of his cock made it all the way to that wall.

“This is for the family,” Leo snarled, voice choked as his vocal chords constricted and vibrated with his feral churrs. “It’s okay, Don,” 

He leaned back a little so he could watch himself disappearing into Don’s slit. 

His stomach churned when he saw that Don’s soft lower belly was in the way, and he couldn’t help but curl his lip as he appraised Don’s form with some disgust. 

Bringing both hands down between them, sitting back on his haunches slightly, he shoved at Don’s soft flesh, ignoring Don’s whimpers of discomfort as he dug his ragged nails in. He pushed that…excess flab…out of the way, so he could see where his leaf green skin slapped against Don’s entrance.

There was blood, but Leo would clean it.

The blood must have helped ease the way, however sopping wet Don’s entrance was for him already.

He pressed Don’s lower stomach, but the flesh was heavy and still sagged back against him. His plastron was impeded by the obstacle. 

In frustration, Leo slowed his thrusts, and reached down to shove Don’s thighs further apart. Don’s flesh yielded to his firm grip, soft and doughy and so thoroughly unbecoming for a ninja.

He shoved himself against Don, satisfied when he felt his cock push even deeper.

“Aggghh! Please—“ Don cried. “S-stop,”

Don had disappointed Leo as a ninja. But, Leo would grant him forgiveness, after all, because Don would be the perfect breeding receptacle. 

Leo’s lips curled into a smile and he couldn’t help but give a small chuckle as he thought about that. 

Of course Don would be the PERFECT receptacle; what else did they have to use for that? Don was lucky like that; truly unique. Leo couldn’t quite hold it against him, though he wished he could just as effortlessly claim credit for his own achievements in the same way that Don and Raph did.

But he worked for everything. He sacrificed for everything. 

His justification sent another surge of adrenaline flooding his body and mind, and he snarled as he increased the force of his thrusts.

Don bit his lip, whimpering as Leo battered and bruised his cervix.  
Raph had never thrust this hard, not even in their most passionate sessions together; Raph was more than capable of that kind of force, but he possessed too much care and concern for Don’s comfort and safety to do that. 

Raph was thicker and heavier, and it always felt like he was slowly pushing Don apart so that they molded together perfectly. Don would often climax just from the feeling of Raph stretching his entrance, stimulating his clitoris with only a few slow rubs against the top of Raph’s girth as the head slathered him from the inside out with heat. 

Not like this. Leo felt like a burning brand or the crack of a whip inside him, the dull pain of his bruised innards exacerbated with every sharp stab of heat against his womb. 

Face set with grim resolution, Don suddenly looked 10 years older, his cheeks wet with tears. 

“Leo…please…” He croaked. 

Leo smirked. Don was begging him. HIM. By name.

“Please, what, Donnie?” He grunted, thrusts reaching a fever pitch. He could feel it. He was close.

He could barely see Don’s face, his vision grew blurry as the heat rushed to his abdomen—

“Please, not…inside me,” Don’s voice was breathless, heavy with agony.

Leo pulled the skin off of his lower lip with his teeth, grinding his incisors into his lip until he tasted blood. 

Leo knew he had been right, after all: Don’s only flaw was that he didn’t know what was good for him.

He pushed himself deep inside and came, orgasm weaker than he had imagined it might be. 

It was all Don’s fault. He should have stayed quiet. 

Leo’s face twisted into pure hatred as he looked down at Don, felt the last of his cum erupt from his cock. He hoped it would be enough to fertilize the next clutch. 

If it wasn’t, he’d simply have to do it again. 

“No…” Don gasped, writhing weakly against Leo. But Leo held him in place until he was certain the last drop of seed had emptied into Don.

Leo had gotten a taste of what he wanted, but along the way it cost him. 

As he looked down at Don’s form, he recalled how many times he’d imagined doing this. How many times he’d longed to have Don for himself. 

He leaned back on his haunches, his softening cock slipping out. 

Leo’s eyes were dull and blank and glassy again. 

Don’s skin really wasn’t as smooth as he thought it would be. And the roundness that Leo thought he found appealing… 

“I think I have to agree with Raph. A gravid form doesn’t suit you well, after all.” Leo said it plainly, as though he were telling Don that a light bulb had burnt out in the kitchen.

Don was out of tears to cry, his eyes swollen and red. The dark bruise on his cheek marred his otherwise passably-pleasant-to-look-at face. He struggled weakly on the bed, sobbing as he tried to inch away from Leo, unable to roll onto his side.

Leo looked down at the space between them. The sheets were stained with some blood mixed with slick fluids, and Don’s plump tail twitched weakly as he tried to curl it upwards to protect his genitals. 

Leo smiled. 

Don’s face was an image of pure pain when he looked at his eldest brother. 

He didn’t recognize him. 

He questioned what he knew about Leonardo-- had his eyes always been that dark? Had his mouth always curled up that strange and uneven way when he found something funny?

The revelation about Raph's mixed feelings...about him leaving...sank in. 

How could Don be sure about anything?

“It’s okay, let me help you,” Leo said kindly, and held his hand just out of Don’s reach. 

“Go away, Leo…I-I don’t know wh—“ 

“I won’t leave you. We’ll figure this out together.” 

“What?!” Don exploded. “What are you talking about? Y-you…why-- “

“Shhh, Donnie. It’s only natural that you’re feeling over emotional.” Leo soothed. 

He grabbed Don’s hand, helped him sit up part of the way. 

Leo paused in pulling Don up and leaned in close. He spoke slowly. “I’m ashamed that I gave into your needs…You aren’t entirely to blame for this.”

Don stared at him.

“No,” He began. “you—“

Leo tightened his grip on Don’s hand, his dark charcoal eyes stony. 

“How are you going to tell Raph?” 

To be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *My headcanon is that Leo has darker brown eyes than Don, or gray eyes, but the color in his are a cooler hue of brown. I think of Don having dark reddish-brown or chocolate eyes, Raph has bright orange-amber, Mikey has blue, and Leo has dark brown/gray.


End file.
